


Matchmaker, Matchmaker

by QuickLikeLight



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Stiles Stilinski, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Lust at First Sight, M/M, Mates, Omega Scott McCall, Scenting, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 16:36:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7809259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickLikeLight/pseuds/QuickLikeLight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you ready?” Stiles asked, and Scott hesitated for a moment. How could he be, when he’d only just met Stiles an hour ago?</p><p>But for some reason, nothing felt more right than saying, “Please.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Matchmaker, Matchmaker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TruebornAlpha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TruebornAlpha/gifts).



> This is a commission from Rune for Dans' birthday, which is coming to her awfully late. I'm sorry for the delay, Dans, but I hope you enjoy the story just the same. <3 
> 
> I tried my hand at something new this time, some A/B/O + Soulmates Fusion fic with a bit of old world thrown in just for fun. I hope it works.

“Are you ready?” Stiles asked, and Scott hesitated for a moment. How could he be, when he’d only just met Stiles an hour ago?

But for some reason, nothing felt more right than saying, “Please.”

 

 

Scott rounded the corner of the street toward the matchmaker’s tearoom, looking anxiously around. It was his third matchmaking tea this year, and if this one didn’t work out -

Well. He’d probably go to a fourth, but it would be miserable.

The matchmaking tea wasn’t exactly Scott’s idea of a good time;  
generally speaking, they were awkward and uncomfortable, with aggressive Alphas  
posturing on all sides of him and desperate Omegas competing for their attention. He wouldn’t go to them at all except -

“You’re getting older, Scott,” his mother had said. “I worry about you. How will I know you’re taken care of if you never find a mate?”

“Twenty-seven isn’t that old, mom,” he’d said grumpily. “Besides, you know I can take care of myself.”

“Maybe so, my dear, but you shouldn’t have to. We’re not made to be alone. I know your Alpha is out there waiting for you - you just have to find them. I have that friend, Marcy, who has a friend with a son about your age. Maybe he's the one…”

“I’ll go to the tea,” Scott had said, and there’d been no more talk of not going.

In truth, it was difficult for Scott to meet new people at this point in his life. Throughout school he’d always just assumed there would be time for mating after his studies were completed. He’d thrown himself headlong into college, and then veterinary school, with single-minded purpose. Now, though, his practice was fulfilling but isolating, and the chances of meeting an Alpha seemed to dwindle by the day.

The matchmaking tea was his only option.

The sign above the door read _Madame Lane’s Tearoom_ in big script, classy but not overly formal. Scott slipped inside the boutique with his shoulders straight and head held high. If someone realized this was his third attempt, it would only be because it was their third attempt too - _or more_ , he thought, comforting himself. He didn’t recognize any of the faces from his last two teas, but that didn’t mean much; at the first he’d been almost too shy to talk to anyone, and at the last he’d spent the entire time talking to a  
young man who seemed almost perfect, but was revealed at the last minute to be a married beta himself, accompanying a friend for her first tea.

By now the routine was familiar: come inside the boutique, shed your coat and your shoes, sit at the table where your place card sits, talk and drink and have cake, and hopefully find your mate in the process. Scott wasn’t positive what happened after that, but he could make a good guess. He’d seen enough couples tripping up the stairs to the rooms above the boutique to understand what they were there for, anyway. He followed the steps in his head as he did them - shed his coat and shoes, found his name among the places set at the long table, sat in the plush chair set out for him. One by one, the other places at the table filled with faces he’d never seen before, and Scott did his  
best to smile at them. None seemed immediately attractive to him, but at the very least he could be kind.

That kindness earned him the attention of the Alpha sitting across the table. The nameplate in front of him said “Jackson” in pretty, scripted letters, and the Alpha looked just as pretty – or he would have, if he hadn’t been scowling.

“Lane sat me at the wrong end of the table again, I see,” Jackson drawled, looking around as if he might find someone to switch with. Scott rolled his eyes. Sometimes Alphas were so self-important they failed to realize very simple things – things like the fact that _they, too_ , were at a matchmaking tearoom awaiting the whims of fate.

“There looks to be a free space at the end,” Scott suggested amiably. “Maybe you should go down there.”

Jackson glared at him but he did rise, taking his place card with him, and sat in the empty seat at the end of the table. Seconds later a new place card sat in front of Scott, one with a name he couldn’t pronounce.

Bells rang gently throughout the room, indicating the start of the tea. Whoever _Szczepan_ was, they were late. The matchmaker, Madame Lane herself, always came out to pour the tea despite the teapots being spaced in easy reach on the table, aromatic tea blends already brewed in them. She was a bright, middle aged beta with big, frizzy hair and a full smile. She fluttered around the room, charming her guests as she filled their cups.

“And this one,” she said, stopping by Scott’s chair with a little frown. “I thought surely - ah, well, sometimes it just takes time. Perhaps this will be your lucky day.”

Scott’s cheeks burned with a blush as she filled his cup three quarters of the way full with a bright green tea, smelling sharply of citrus. He took a sip, letting his eyes fall closed as the warm scent rolled over him, flattening his senses to the rest of the room for a moment.

When he put his cup down - that’s when he smelled it. For the first time in his life, Scott knew exactly what people meant when they said he’d smell his mate before he saw them. A scent unlike any he’d ever smelled filled his nose, earthy and warm and slightly spiced, perfectly in tune with the bright citrus scent of the tea. He looked around, but none of the people sitting near him smelled exactly right. Instead, his eye was drawn toward the door where a tall Alpha was ducking inside, late, apologies already on his lips.

“Sorry, sorry Madame Lane,” he said, and then stopped. He swivelled, eyes meeting Scott’s, and for a long moment they just sat there, time stretching out between them as the rest of the room went on without noticing.

He was slim and pale, dark-haired and light eyed - not blue or green but a sort of golden brown that Scott wanted to look and look into. He nodded as he looked, like Scott was slotting into place in his brain somehow, even though they’d never met. He wasted no more time in coming over, sitting for only long enough to take a sip of his own cup of tea before asking, “Walk with me?”

Scott looked around, but he knew the Alpha must be talking to him – he had barely looked away from Scott since he entered. Tea wasn’t even halfway over yet, but Scott felt himself nodding and rising, as if he was disconnected from his body. He waited to come to his senses, to sit down and meet his mate the proper way, but instead he stuck his hand out in greeting.

“Dr. Scott McCall,” he said, formal in his shyness.

“Stiles,” the Alpha replied, letting his hand linger on Scott’s for far longer than a handshake should take. Scott understood; he didn’t want to let go either.

The sitting area in the back room of the boutique was empty still, with the tea ongoing in the main room, and it was easy to settle on one of the low couches there and fall into conversation. Stiles was difficult to describe, seeming to be bold and confident in one moment and then fearfully anxious the next, his scent changing to Scott’s nose every time. No matter how it changed, though, he smelled so good. Scott felt himself leaning forward nose first, trying to get more of the scent –

“Me too,” Stiles said, unabashedly. “You have no idea how hard it is to sit and talk about our jobs and families with you sitting there, smelling that way.”

“Smelling what way?” Scott asked, as much from curiosity as to tease. Flirting wasn’t his strong suit, but it seemed easy with Stiles, every offhanded comment making him lick his lips or flush pink.

“Smelling like… like sunshine after rain, and fresh cut flowers, and cake.” Stiles dipped low, face coming close to Scott’s so he could smell more accurately. “Sweet, but still fresh – like honey at the market outside of town.”

Scott blinked, heart thudding painfully in his chest. Stiles was so close, he smelled so good –

The kiss didn’t take him by surprise. What did was how well they fit together, how natural it felt to be kissing Stiles, how eager he felt to continue. Stiles’ mouth was generous and wide, and he nibbled at Scott’s lips as they kissed. It was unlike any kiss Scott had shared before – not because his previous partners had been poor kissers, or because Stiles was especially good at it, but because there was something inside him drawing Scott nearer all the time, some chemical force too strong to ignore.

“Do you feel it?” Scott asked, a little nonsensical. It didn’t matter though.

“Yeah, I feel it, too.”

 

The keys to the rooms above the boutique were easily acquired, and Stiles had done all the talking as they made their way past Madame Lane’s smiling attendants and up to the top floor. The room itself wasn’t large, but it didn’t need to be for their purposes. Already, Scott could feel the effects of oncoming heat – the combination of the tea and meeting Stiles was more than his body could regulate, and he was warm all over even as he stripped out of his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.

“Hey, wait,” Stiles said, putting his hands over Scott’s on his chest. “Let me do that.”

Stiles was gentle as he pulled the buttons free of their holes all the way down Scott’s front, kissing him all the while. Every button felt like more of Scott’s wavering hesitance being plucked undone, leaving only want and surety behind. It had been a long time since he’d shared a heat with a partner, and every second they kissed felt like it ramped the coals higher in his belly, until he was blazing with it. Sweat dewed on his brow, and his pants felt uncomfortably rough against his skin, more sensitive with every passing moment.

“Stiles - I need -” he said softly, voice already rough with want.

“I’ve got you,” Stiles assured him, and he did - in the next moment, Scott was free of his clothes and falling back onto the soft bed that dominated the room. Scott watched with interest as Stiles undressed himself, reaching down to rub at his sensitive clit. He was sure he looked a picture - sprawled lavishly across the bed, fingers slick and sliding over his cunt, hair tousled from Stiles’ fingers - but he couldn’t bring himself to care. All he wanted was Stiles in him, to be joined together instead of so alone.

He’d been alone so long.

“I know you have,” Stiles said, and Scott realized he must have said the words aloud. Stiles crawled over him on the bed, kissing his way up Scott’s body with sweet, gentle kisses. “You’re not alone now, though. You don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

Scott knew that was simplifying things. Just because they were mates didn’t mean they’d get along, or make it work. His parents were proof enough of that. He didn’t dwell on it though, choosing instead to look at things from a brighter perspective. Even if they didn’t last, he and Stiles had found one another, and that was more than he’d had when he walked into the tea shop that morning.

Stiles’ fingers on him brought Scott’s attention back - long, deft fingers that stroked his cunt in all the right ways. Scott shivered at Stiles’ touch, body aching for him already. “Please, Stiles -”

“Yeah, baby?” Stiles asked, smiling at him so gently that Scott felt he might break over it.

“I need - your fingers, please,” Scott managed, one hand pushing Stiles’ fingers down further, toward his hole. He was already so slick, wet, heat radiating from his skin. Stiles slid two fingers inside without resistance, and Scott whimpered his pleasure back. It felt so good to have something in him, something to squeeze down on, to clench around -

“Fuck,” Stiles swore clumsily, thumb working at Scott’s clit while his fingers slid in and out. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

“Really?” Scott asked - he hadn’t thought himself so, but if Stiles thought it…

“Yes, yeah, beautiful - you look so good, baby, feel so good - you’re going to feel so good when I mate you. I want it - do you want me, Scott?”

“Yes,” Scott said, voice coming out more of a whine than anything else.

Stiles withdrew his fingers, peppering Scott’s face with kisses as he climbed over him in the bed. He hitched Scott’s legs up around his hips, easily maneuvering Scott’s body into place. _Stronger than he looks_ , Scott thought dazedly as Stiles moved into position.

“Are you ready?” Stiles asked, and Scott hesitated for a moment. How could he be, when he’d only just met Stiles an hour ago?

But for some reason, nothing felt more right than saying, “Please.”

The first push of Stiles’ cock into his body did nothing to satisfy the ache building in his cunt. If anything, it made him want more. Scott pulled Stiles in by the hips, hands scrabbling at his back.

“Please, please,” he echoed, body aching to be filled, to be knotted and tied to soothe the heat back down. Stiles responded enthusiastically, hips thrusting with slow, steady movements at first, and then faster, harder, until their bodies smacked together on every push. It felt amazing, like nothing Scott had ever felt before - and under it all, that smell pervaded, the evergreen spice smell that first drew Scott’s attention.

“Yes, yes, please, keep going -” Scott begged, until Stiles silenced him with kiss-bruised lips pressed against his own. They kissed until Scott was lightheaded with need, both for Stiles and for air, but even then they couldn’t be parted long. With every drive of Stiles’ cock into him, Scott whimpered and moaned, so close to the edge he could almost taste it.

“I’m - I’m almost -”

“Almost there?” Stiles asked, voice rough with lust. He reached down one-handed to rub Scott’s clit, and all of the sudden everything coalesced in front of him, leaving Scott gasping for air as his orgasm hit, shatteringly strong. Stiles kept thrusting, working at him with one hand, so one wave of pleasure crested into the next, and the next, until Scott was shaking and oversensitive. Only then did he realize the tightening he felt was Stiles’ knot, growing steadily at the base of his cock.

“Are you ready Scott?” Stiles asked, face red and sweat darkening his hair.

“Yes, please, knot me Alpha,” Scott groaned, wrapping his legs tight around Stiles’ waist.

The knot was big, bigger than anything he’d ever experienced, but the pain was blotted out by Stiles’ agile fingers rubbing at his clit, by the press and pull of Stiles’ rocking hips.

“C - come for me again,” Stiles asked, jaw tight with the effort of knotting. Just the request lit Scott up inside, made every nerve in his body sing with desire to please him, to give in to the pleasure Stiles was bringing him. His body tensed, he held his breath, and another wave crashed over him, leaving him exhausted but happy - so happy. Above him, Stiles sagged, his own orgasm stealing his strength away and replacing Scott’s strong Alpha mate with a tired, snuggly hanger-on. He didn’t mind; he simply wrapped his arms around Stiles’ body and held him close, enjoying the feeling of being tied to him.

Scott woke from a light doze as Stiles slipped out of him and rolled off, only to come back and spoon him a moment later.

“How was I?” he asked, drowsy.

“Amazing,” Stiles said in return. “A+, would mate again.”

“Good,” Scott said, settling in for a nap. “You have two hours until you have to make good on that.”

Right at the edge of sleep, Scott heard him say, “God, I love the matchmaker.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Your feedback is valuable to all fic writers, and I'm no exception. If you enjoyed this story, please let me know.
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://quicklikelight.tumblr.com).


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